A Demon in an Angel's Body
by Rikachan101
Summary: "There's no one left I love." It wasn't always like that. Johanna Mason had an easy life in District 7, being the daughter of the wealthiest man there. She was sweet, innocent and prissy. Only during the Games did she show her true colours as the viscous girl that we all know and love. Welcome to the 68th Hunger Games. Johanna/OC.


You're sitting in your home, watching your TV. Everybody in Panem is. Why? Because the finale is starting.

You watch with excitement the two tributes in the final round of the Hunger Games. One is a boy. He is a viscous killer, trained to use his sword since her was little. His score prior to the Hunger Games was a ten. The other is a younger girl. She is the daughter of a wealthy businessman, and a sweet, sensitive child, used to having an easy life. Her score was a four.

Who do you think will win?

Well, upon first impression, one would say that the boy would be the winner. Trust me, I would have too. So how is it that the girl won?

Well, that's because the girl isn't what she seems. That sweet, innocent teenager that you see on your TV isn't sweet at all. She's viscous, and will pierce the boy's heart with hesitation.

How do I know this?

No, I am not a psychic. No I am not a Gamemaker.

I _am_ that girl.

My name is Johanna Mason. Welcome to the 68th Hunger Games.

Chapter 1

My whole life was about keeping my emotions bottled up. Being the daughter of the richest man in the District, I had an image to maintain. I had to look innocent, sweet, sensitive, and_ prissy._

I loved my parents, but I could never tell them how I really felt. I didn't want to be a sweet little rich girl. I didn't even know _what _I wanted to be. I just wanted to be someone else.

And it took an axe, and my backyard.

Every night, I went out back, and took Dad's old axe. For hours, I would throw my axe at the tree, the deadly weapon marking the trunk. After a month of throwing, it finally fell. I laughed that night, visualizing that the one tree was every jerk in my life. Everyone who ever walked past me and looked at me with disdain, and everyone girl who laughed at me. They saw me as weak, pathetic. I had the easy life. I wasn't tough enough to make it through life in District 7.

Let alone the Hunger Games.

"Johanna? Hellooo?" My sister little sister Miranda waved her hand in front of my face, and I shook my head.

"Yeah, what?" I replied.

"Time for the reaping."

"Oh, right!" I yelled, running up to change. In no time at all, I had on my reaping dress. A sparkly dress the colour of leaves draped over my shoulders as I let my long hair loose and headed back down to meet Miranda, who stood at the door with Mom and Dad. I didn't smile, I only stepped forward and slipped my sandals on.

"Come on, let's go." I said as I walked out to the square.

"I can't begin to tell you all what an honour it is to be here." I snorted with disgust at the sight of Frieda Pixy, the District 7 escort. Every year she dressed up like a parrot, and this year wasn't too different. She wore a skirt that seemed to change colour as she moved, and a hat of purple and red feathers that went over her neon orange hair.

I hate District 7. Everyone here is an idiot. But I still hate the Capitol more. I hate Snow, the Frieda, every last damn person there.

Of course, I was about to go meet them.

"Ladies first," Frieda said cheerfully, walking over to the giant reaping ball. I was sixteen at the time, and being from a rich family, I had only five names in that reaping ball. Miranda, who was twelve at the time, had only one. The odds were in our favour, I could go home, be with my little sister, be the prissy little girl that everyone expected me to be…wow, why did I want that? I hated my life; I should have wanted to go into the Games more than anything.

I guess I just didn't want to risk dying. I had years of experience, watching the Hunger Games. I knew every tactic, every fighting skill that could make me victor. I spent years throwing axes at a tree! But still…I was a little puny. In comparison to the Careers, at least. I could have wrestled anyone here and beat them until blood was flowing out of their mouth. I could have slit their throats without hesitation. But that was because I didn't like people enough to spare them. Make me mad, you die. That's my motto.

"Well, well." Frieda said, shaking her head and grinning as she opened the slip of paper.

"Dear me…Ladies and gentlemen, Johanna Mason!"

I froze, my mouth half-open. The crowd parted in front of me, leaving me wide open to the stage. Frieda motioned for me to come forward, and I shook my head. No…

"Come on dear, don't be shy." Frieda called out. I stepped forward with shaky feet, straightening my dress.

"No! Don't go!" Miranda cried as I reached the front. I turned around to see her tugging at my dress, her tears staining the fabric. I wiped my own tears and pushed her off.

"Miranda, please!" I yelled. "Don't!" I continued, realizing that the tears have been streaming from my own face. I tried to hide them with embarrassment, knowing that all of the cameras were trained on me, and that all of Panem was laughing at my pathetic reaction. However, I did manage to step onto the stage, and looked down as Frieda patted my shoulder and continued with the boys.

"Adian Bennett!" She said. I looked forward as a boy stepped out of the seventeen-year old section, looking at his feet. He was tall, with a very sturdy build, with dirty blond hair. Despite the fact that my face was probably a tomato, inside I wanted to snicker at _his_ pathetic reaction.

It had seemed that neither of the District 7 tribute were coming home this year.

Again.

**Yes, it's a very short chapter, but I do plan on making the next one much longer. So, as you have noticed, I have made Johanna into a fairly conflicted character, with a unique backstory. I will continue depending on the reviews I get. However, to those of you reading my other Hunger Games fic, yes I WILL do the sequel.**


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